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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27823858">An Honest Misunderstanding</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/ecrituredudesir/pseuds/ecrituredudesir'>ecrituredudesir</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Furry (Fandom), Star Wars - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Electrocution, Furry, Gen, Overstimulation, Torture</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 18:46:43</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,044</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27823858</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/ecrituredudesir/pseuds/ecrituredudesir</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>A Kushiban is picked up by the Galactic Empire and tortured for information on the Jedi.</p>
<p>A commission for someone on Furaffinity.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>An Honest Misunderstanding</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>When the Empire had boarded the ship that she’d been working on for a while now, J’zka had been told enough about their forces and methods to know to that the safest option would be to pretend to not be sentient at all—as quickly as possible she had stripped away any identifying feature of intelligence, from accessories to clothing while she tried her best to blend in with the others, unassuming and inoffensive. <br/><br/>It had almost worked, too, until the Sith Lord that boarded the ship in their brief invasion noticed a shiver that ran down her spine when he passed. As much as she had tried to hide it, Kushibans were Force sensitive, and the Sith had been powerful enough to make her swallow with dread at the strength she knew that he could wield. The shudder was seen as a sign of guilt, and when the Sith stepped closer, he had been able to feel her own sensitivity to the Force first hand. There had been no question from there; <em>clearly,</em> the Sith Lord had sneered, they had a Jedi hiding among them. <br/><br/>Her protests came quickly, and nearly desperately as she fought against the guards that surged forward to take her from the rest of the crew. She had screamed that she wasn’t a Jedi, as her cream colored fur went gray with terror, though her protests had been met with little more than mockery at her terror; despite the fact that it was rare for a captured Jedi to offer so much protest, they carried her on to the same prison planet that they took every other suspected enemy to. It was a world of unforgiving ice and snow, and the Empire’s base on it served as a stark, metal fortress against the elements—though judging from the screams that J’zka could hear on their way through the hallways, many would prefer to be on the outside of the base rather than the inside. <br/><br/>A large, jackal anthro was already laughing at her noises, mocking her as they dragged her down the hallway to her own torture room. “When did Jedi become so pathetic? She’s practically crying!”<br/><br/>“Please!” She cried, her fur turning to an abysmal gray from the fear that was flooding her. One of her captors, a human with a particularly sinister smirk, only scoffed and grasped one of her ears as he all but tossed her into a chair that snapped heavy bindings up and down her arms and legs. “I’m not a Jedi! I don’t know anything!”<br/><br/>“Yeah, right,” the human answered reaching upwards for the strange mask that was hanging from the ceiling over the device. “The Sith wouldn’t pick out just any random citizen for treatment here. Just be a good prisoner and break quickly for us. The sooner you tell us all you know about any other Jedi posts along the path of the ship that we intercepted, the sooner this will all be over. The more you give us, the more merciful we’ll be.” He spoke as if he had any mercy in him at all, and he nearly clipped her nose off with quickly snapping the mask over her face, silencing her fearful protests even now. <br/><br/>They secured the device over her face, strapped it into the back and placing the strange little buds attached to it well into her flopped ears. She could see nothing but the strange screens at the end of the masks, though she gave a squeak of quiet discomfort as the mask shifted forward, grasping her eyelids and peeling them back. Though nothing else seemed to poke or prod at her, there was the sound of the switch being flipped from the direction of her tormentors. <br/><br/>Suddenly, the mask seemed to life in a flurry of terrifying flashes. She couldn’t make out all of the patterns that worked their way across the screen in rapid succession, and just as the images assaulted her visuals, she found the little buds in her ears starting to kick in as well. They produced a maddening sort of screech, enough to completely daze her as she groaned immediately. The sound was distorted so that no matter how loud it seemed to be, it wasn’t to a point that it would deafen her permanently; they didn’t want to damage such a potentially vital source of information too badly too soon, after all. <br/><br/>The effects were more mental than they were physical. After only a few seconds, the distortion and flashing images had her head pounding and tender, and as the minutes ticked on, she felt her stomach revolting, nausea running through her with such force that she nearly found herself vomiting in the machine itself, though she didn’t have anything in her stomach to bring up. Her pleas for mercy were muffled by the strange mask, and if her guards could hear her, they didn’t respond, leaving her in the machine for a few hours before they bothered lifting the mask and bringing her back to the world of normal sound. <br/><br/>Her ears were ringing, and her head lolled to one side as she looked up to them, though her jailers seemed to have swapped out for another human, and this time a stern looking Zabrak. She couldn’t quite figure out why they would have changed the guards unless they were trying to disorient her further, but thinking on that too hard only made her mind hurt. <br/><br/>“Ready to talk?” The Zabrak questioned, looking oddly as if he didn’t <em>want</em> an answer, given how much it would allow him to continue her torment where her last captors had left off. She lurched forward in the chair once the mask had been removed, her senses overwhelmed and painful as she just shook her head, swallowing back how thick her tongue felt in her head with the nausea running through her. <br/><br/>“I swear….I swear I’m not a Jedi...” Fat tears rolled down her furred cheeks with her terror, and her fur had never faded from the strange, ashy gray that it had shifted to since her captivity. “Please, I- I haven’t done anything wrong, I promise, please just let me go,” she choked. Her captors simply tutted, though they weren’t actually at all put out by the prospect of continuing their torture on one of their enemies. Instead of letting her plead more, they simply unstrapped her from the chair and lifted her over to one of the other machines. It seemed vaguely-coffin shaped, and she was immediately claustrophobic as they lifted a heavy lid onto it, cutting her off from being able to see anything in the room. It was like being buried alive as she frantically pounded against the lid of it, but it was fully automated, and the heavy steel of it made it impossible for her small fists to even make more than a hollow, pounding sound on it. <br/><br/>She screamed out for mercy, and the coffin moved with a hum like a starting engine. Heavy, solid metal straps descended from the roof, keeping her in place as the coffin started to buzz around her. Though it wasn’t direct electricity, it was a combination of energy stimuli and the buzz of power that seemed to radiate from the interior of the structure that left no part of her body unaffected. <br/><br/>Though the charge was slow at first, leaving her confused as to what was happening, before the slow sensation of heat started to work against her. Though there was no actual heat in the coffin, the series of stimuli were meant to replicated a variety of feelings in whoever was trapped inside the device. <br/><br/>Her captors had chosen a particularly harsh setting for such a little creature, unaware of how the Kushiban wasn’t remotely sturdy—mentally or physically, in this case. The feeling of warmth jumped rapidly in seconds and her uncomfortable whimper rapidly rose to a few more cries for help. She felt as if she’d been dropped right over a fire, but that was intentional—the feeling she was being subjected to had been compared to feeling as if one was being roasted alive. <br/><br/>Everywhere, pain sprang across her skin. There was not a spot on her that was spared, and she could swear the warmth spread across her face the worst, threatening to cook her eyeballs right out of her head. Her legs spasmed, and though there was no actual damage done, she would swear up and down that she could feel her skin expand and contract, like the fur itself was being cooked off of her limbs and body. <br/><br/>Her screams were only interrupted by frantic sobs, though the more she screamed the more she felt as if the heat was entering her lungs with each breath, cooking her from the inside as well. She was hyperventilating, and each breath she drew in was shorter than the last as she writhed in the coffin, unable to even lift her arms for how tightly the straps held her down, making sure that every inch of her felt the pulses of stimulation that simply felt like the heatwaves inside of an oven. <br/><br/>Eventually, her own screams turned into breathless, tearful rasps—and even her tears felt like they were boiling as they slipped slowly down the fur of her cheeks. The only movement she was allowed was the shake of her head, a pitiful, hopeless motion given that the coffin was so solid that her captors couldn’t even see her trying to protest; they could only watch her vitals as they jumped desperately in the wake of more pain than she had ever felt in her life. It felt like it had lasted a century, but truth be told, the little creature was so overwhelmed by the pain that she blacked out in less than a minute of the machine’s activation. <br/><br/>Her body remained unharmed, apart from the mental trauma of such pain. Slowly, but surely, the murky coloring of her fur was darkening with each passing minute spent in the control of the empire. As her vitals went smooth again, with the sweet embrace of unconsciousness taking her, the two tormentors currently charged with getting information from her opened the coffin again with a little tut. <br/><br/>“It actually knocked her out. Some Jedi, huh? We probably got some pathetic Padawan traveling without a master,” the Zabrak muttered, shaking his head.<br/><br/>“Doesn’t matter what she is, just what she knows,” the human answered, snapping a little vial of smelling salts to wave under her pointed little nose. She can only give them a groan when it takes almost immediately, dragging her from the blissful reprieve of darkness. Her nerves still felt like they were firing off hints of pain as a firm little slap drew her full attention. For a moment, it was as if she struggled to truly get an idea of her surroundings, and when she realized again what was happening, J’zka could only give another, choked noise, as if her lungs were still full of the feeling of burning air. <br/><br/>The sight of them made her eyes widen, though they easily restrained her arms when she started trying to struggle again, wordlessly shaking her head quickly as she fought to find her words. Her struggling was stopped by another swift smack to her face, and the human that had replaced the last reached forward, pinching her cheeks together to keep her head from moving. <br/><br/>“You’re going to tell us everything you know about any Jedi in the solar system we picked you up in,” he explained slowly, his grasp moving away from her cheeks to collect her ears in one grip, making her whimper. <br/><br/>Her tears were coming fresh again, and though the nausea had faded when she had lost consciousness, fear was starting to make it rise thick up the back of her throat again. Her tears began once more, thick, unsightly wet patches covering her face as she sniffled and started to babble. <br/><br/>“P-please, I really don’t... hic! Know anything! I haven’t ever even met a Jedi, I don’t know what you want from me, I was just working on the ship and I really-” Her works broke down into desperate, almost blubbering sobbing by now, her eyes shiny and bloodshot from her insistence, praying that anyone among the Empire’s troops and interrogators would believe her. “I-I’m just a Kushiban, we aren’t anything special, we’re not Jedi, I’m just J’zka-!” <br/><br/>“She’s a stubborn one, isn’t she?” The human sneers, cutting off her frantic blathering before she could make any further poorly-convincing points. J’zka had been fully ready to tell them anyone that they wanted to know about her, where she was born, where her planet was, everything—but it seemed her babbling had only convinced them that she was being particularly stubborn. <br/><br/>She’s screaming again when they lift her from the coffin, and hoist her little body with ease along to another chair that sat in the room; unlike the one with the mask hanging over it, this one seemed odd in places, with various ridges and little electrodes and nodes that dug uncomfortably against her back and thighs. While the human moved to snap a collar around her throat, his companion reached for a little container which she could see held several small vials and a needle within. The chair once again snapped restraints up automatically, trapping her in place despite her vehement attempts to struggle. This chair was far scarier than the last one had been, and the ridges against the entire back half of her body was far more uncomfortable, too.<br/><br/>The collar snapped around her neck, and from it came a small, rhythmic beep; she could recognize the pace of it as being the same as her own racing heart, and the human checked the vitals before he gave the thumbs up to the Zabrak, who started to mix a terrible cocktail by injected the needle into each of the bottles in the case. “We don’t need you passing out as easily as you did in the stimulation chamber, you know,” he hummed almost cheerfully. Thumping the needle once to help the cocktail inside mix a little better, he reached forward and grasped her wiggling arm in the restraints and plunged the needle right into her elbow. She squeaked in the start of pain just from that, as it was the first time she’d been directly hurt beyond the imagined stimulus to her nerves. <br/><br/>Immediately, she could feel the odd sense of adrenaline kick in her, eyes going wide. Her pace picked up just a little, and the collar picked up the hike in her vitals as well, though the pair soon stood back, and pressed another button on the wall. The chair started to hum under her once more, and she let out the start of a whimper—before a raw electric shock rocked through her, sending her fur to stand straight on end as the shock slid through the softer padding of her rump. <br/><br/>It turned any whimper she would have made into an outright shriek, her eyes going wide as her spine went straight, mouth parting as her tongue nearly stuck out, her limbs going as straight as they could in her bindings before the shock was gone as quickly as it had arrived, leaving her confused and startled with the fact that it hadn’t been a prolonged pain like what the coffin-like device had. Just as soon as it seemed that it might have stopped, though, two more electrodes pressed forward from the back of the chair instead now, pressing just under her slightly lifted arms to slide flush to her armpits. Realizing that the chair was far from done and was simply just getting started, she looked to the two with a desperate look. “No, please, I’m telling you the truth, I don’t know anything at all, I would have sa-” <br/><br/>Her words were cut forward with another scream now, as the electric shocks rocked through her once more. They seemed to disregard her efforts entirely—and they would, until she started offering them information that they could use. Just as soon as one set of shocks would end after a few, prolonged seconds of shooting through her tender flesh under her arms, the shocks started to shoot up her spine as the electrodes running along the back of the chair started to activate as well. No space was safe if it was touching the chair, and no matter how her senses would blur and drag her into the space of mindless stimulation and pain, the strange mixture of drugs that they had injected into her kept her from blacking out. It kept her in a strained state of high-adrenaline, not letting the electricity knock her unconscious, but not letting her ignore any of the pain that came with it, either.<br/><br/>Just as soon as she thought the pain would be limited to just her sides, back, and rump, an other small pad of electrodes prodded up at her feet and the sensitive soles under them. She jerked her legs, though they were pinned just as tightly as her arms were, and screamed against just when she thought that she was running out of the ability to do so—just another voice to be added to the dozens of other sufferers at the hands of the Empire’s master torturers. <br/><br/>It was impossible to anticipate where the next pain would come from. There was no particular pattern to how the electrodes would shock next—and this time, the pain that felt like an eternity truly was stretched out. It didn’t stop, not even when they changed out the people watching her so the others could eat and sleep and take regular breaks. The drugs that they had pumped into her were doing a marvelous job of making sure that she stayed awake for every second of it, and after the first day, she was barely coherent enough to speak beyond groans and loud whimpers. Her shrieks and screams had become nearly delirious, incoherent and noises of agony and suffering. It had solidified one thing; she was no longer able to ‘lie’ to them, as her captors were concerned, about knowing nothing. She couldn’t speak at all past the second day but with how stubborn she had proven to be so far, they wanted to give her a full round of knowing just what kind of suffering they were capable of locking her into for weeks to come. <br/><br/>Unconsciousness never came, forbidden by the injection. She wasn’t allowed to even pass out to sleep for the regularity of the shocks. By the time the third day rolled around, she couldn’t keep her head up, drooling over her front and grunting pathetically each time another shock rolled through her.<br/><br/>Considering no one seemed to know just what she was, though, it wasn’t a surprise when another figure finally arrived in the doorway. They had sent for a specialist days before, but experts on alien species were rare in this part of the galaxy, and their consultant had arrived from very far away. When she stepped in, they stopped the shock treatment, and this brief reprieve gave J’zka the only chance that she had had to look up with some awareness at her surroundings in… a while. A large anthro lion stared down at her, giving a somewhat half annoyed glance over her. “...This is what I was called down here for?” The female lion questions, looking over to the torturers, who shifted a little uncomfortably under her scrutiny. Clearly she was some sort of expert in her field; she wasn’t dressed like either of the interrogators, nor any of the soldiers that had passed through the hallways of the Empire’s military base, instead standing in the pressed robes of a scholar. “This is just a regular creature—rare off of its world, certainly, but there’s no Jedi here. This race just happens to be Force-sensitive naturally. Your lot has likely just never seen one, for how rarely they leave their world.” <br/><br/>J’zka’s tormentors looked to each other, and then shrugged, both beginning to break into passing laughter. “Looks like she was telling the truth after all,” the human hummed aloud, shaking his head. “And here we thought we just had a particularly resilient Jedi on our hands. Looks like we’ll know better next time then, hm?” He asked, grasping her by the ears, though she could barely hold her head up at that point from exhaustion. The joke isn’t appreciated, after all, and she didn’t laugh with them as they joked around with one another. There was no apology in either of their tones; though the last few days had been a waste, she was much easier to manhandle and break down that many of their normal victims, and so they considered it a pleasant few days to relax despite what agony she had been in. <br/><br/>Slowly, the bindings on her body are removed, but the Zabrak hums, shaking his head. “Well, if you don’t have any information, then we don’t really have any use for you, do we?” He asked, tutting under his breath as both of them regarded her with increasing disinterest. “You don’t have any useful information for the Empire, so we’ll let you choose—we can either toss you into the incinerator with the rest of the trash on base, or...” With a mischievous spark in his eye, he let his tone go airy, as if he was offering some of that mercy that she had begged them both so desperately for. <br/><br/>“Or,” his partner in crime interjected, looking equally amused, “We can just let you out into the wilderness outside of the gate, befitting of an ‘animal.’” <br/><br/>J’zka could feel her fear mounting again, a cold shiver of dread rising up her spine. She had seen the frozen tundra of a planet that the base was built on; she would last perhaps minutes at tops out in the wild. They were simply offering her choice of a way to die, and dread began to creep back into her. The last several days had left her fur a blackish gray for her state of mind and body, but their words somehow seemed to make it even darker, and for a moment, the only sound that left her mouth was something akin to a whimper. <br/><br/>“Oh, none of that nonsense,” the lion anthro spoke up once more, offering a passing huff as she looked down at the creature, taking J’zka’s face and tilting it at a few different angles. “There’s a use for her yet. That Force-sensitivity can detect items as well as individuals...” J’zka was powerless to stop her careful guidance of her features, and the appraisal seemed to end with the anthro’s quiet hum of approval, before her arms crossed. “I will leave you with one option, then; you can stay and be disposed of like your jailers have informed you, or you can commit yourself to the Empire and serve as a tool at my convenience, in my artifact hunts when I embark.” <br/><br/>J’zka was too weak to question it or to express her disdain for the Empire, particularly after he days of torture at their hands—but she was also too terrified to, knowing that her life now hung in the balance. She had never thought she’d find herself conscripted by their forces, but now she was distinctly aware that refusal wasn’t really an option, despite how the species expert might have phrased her ‘offer.’ <br/><br/>Swallowing hard against the dryness in her throat from being kept awake for so long, J’zka only offered a nod that felt like it wasn’t even acted out by her own body. Her agreement was all it took for the two others in the room to step forward, slowly starting to free her from her bindings, even if she wasn’t sure she’d even be able to walk at that point. <br/><br/>The lion anthro merely gave a thin, terrifying smile that struck almost as much fear into the little creature as the sight of the torture instruments had. “Welcome to the Galactic Empire.”</p>
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